


Decrypted

by Space_Mabel (orphan_account)



Category: Original Work, cryptozoology - Fandom
Genre: Cryptids, F/F, high school setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-04
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-18 06:00:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5901022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Space_Mabel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five teens realize they have a connection beyond just friendship, they've all been having the same dreams. It's up to them to decipher the meanings of these strange messages, encountering creatures beyond science and beyond fact along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decrypted

I remember the first day that everything started changing. I had woken up, gotten out of bed, and brushed my teeth and hair. I had decided to wear a pair of boot cut jeans and a pair of tennis shoes I stole from my middle school locker room, pulling them on under my night shirt (I planned on changing shirts after PE, which was my first period class). Everything was normal, or so it seemed at the time.

I walked downstairs, hunger pains stabbing at the sides of my stomach. The smell of warm pastries lingered in the air and made my mouth water. Mom and Aunt Rita were chatting over coffee and a pack of month old chocolate chip toaster waffles. I never really cared enough to pay attention to what they were talking about, but I suppose, knowing what was going to happen soon, it may have been the better choice to listen.

“Bell,” My mother called, “Can you go grab that pot of coffee? Be careful, I just made it a few minutes ago, so it should still be hot.”

I nodded and walked into the kitchen. The rain pelted against the sides of the house, making a beautiful sound. I quickly yanked my phone out of my pocket and recorded the sound for future use.

I suddenly wondered what time it was. The clock on the oven was an hour fast, and it said 7:44. ‘The bus comes at exactly 7:05,’ I thought, smoothing out my wrinkled pajama shirt. It was an old, tattered thing with the faded logo of some family run pizza shop on it. I wore it every night to sleep because it was the second to last thing my dad ever gave me.

The last time I saw my dad, he wasn’t in a good place. His hair was a greying mess, his wild blue-green eyes had cavernous bags underneath them, and he was stuttering like a madman. He had minor schizophrenia, something else I inherited, but the way he was talking and behaving wasn’t something ordinary for him.

The last thing he gave me was something special. He had woken me up in the dark of the night, shaking me on the shoulders and muttering about how he had ‘Found the answer’. Mom was convinced he was on some kind of drug. He had shakily wrapped a warm metal bracelet around my wrist, locking it into place and making me promise never to remove it. I agreed, and that was the last anyone saw of him. I heard the door open. I heard mom get up. I heard crying. The next thing I knew, we were at my dad’s memorial service.

Aunt Rita came to live with us after that. I think it had something to do with worries that something bad might happen to my mom and I too. That was almost six years ago, so I’m pretty sure that she’s only still here because my mom got attached to her. I’m not complaining.

I brought the coffee to the table, then went to get a waffle and a cup. The creamer was out on the counter, so I grabbed that too.

“How’d ya sleep, sugar cube?” Aunt Rita said in her thick Southern Belle accent. She was born and raised in Savannah Georgia, and picked up a heavy accent along with a knack for ‘spiritual affairs’. Because of this, their house was filled with various tarot decks, candles, crystals, and herbs used for both cooking and spellwork.

My mother, on the other hand, is a woman of science. She works as an engineer at NASA, so of course the only thing of that ort that she believes in is astrology. (That’s a joke, she doesn’t really believe in astrology.)

“I slept okay, except for the weird dreams,” I said, pulling out a chair and taking a bite of my waffle. The chocolate was hot and burnt my tongue, as it did every morning. It’s weird that I don’t have scars from it.

“What did you dream about, honey?” My mom said, looking up from her Sudoku puzzle. She almost looked concerned, but I wouldn’t believe it if she was crying and shaking.  
It’s hard to explain, but she’s been through too much to feel real emotions, so the throws herself into her work. For me, it just blows my mind that things she designs and creates get sent into space. I aspire to be a mix of all three of my ‘parents’, counting Aunt Rita because she’s been there for me about as long as I can remember my dad being there. Educated and organized like my mother, a wild and incredible genius like my father, and a fantastic psychic like my Aunt.

“Well, I woke up, in the dream, in a forest. It was night, and I turned around to see this…” I wracked my brain for how to describe what I had seen. “This thing. It had red eyes and huge wings. It looked like it was staring right through me. I can’t remember anything else.”

Aunt Rita nodded and hummed in an ‘I told you so’ type of vibe. Mom shook her head and rolled her eyes skeptically.

I bit my cheek and sucked on the blood, which was an awful nervous habit of mine. Aunt Rita motioned me over.

“C’mere, Bell,” Rita said, holding her right hand out. I laid my hand out on top of hers and she plopped her pocket tarot deck onto my palm. “You know what to do.”

I shuffled the cards and spread out three cards from random points in the deck.

I flipped the first card over. The three of swords stared back at me.

“This card, upright, represents heartbreak or grief. Have you had your heart broken recently, or fallen out with a friend?”

My mind immediately went to Sasha, who had blatantly ignored my attempt at flirting with her yet again. We’ve been best friends since 2nd grade and she still refuses to notice the way I feel. It’s not exactly a confidence booster, but it doesn’t faze me that much.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, but yeah. What’s next?”

She turned the next card over. The Ten of Pentacles was next, representing family wealth, inheritance, and a few other concepts.

“I’m sure you know what this means. You get it every other readin’, right? Do you know why yet?”

I shrugged. She nodded, glancing sardonically at my mom. My mom pouted and refused to make eye contact, taking a big bite of her waffle. It smeared her lipstick.

Aunt Rita flipped the last card over rather slowly. I felt my blood run cold at the statement it made for the future, brandishing a woman falling from a crumbling castle while crying out for help.

“The Tower,” Aunt Rita said carefully, “Represents great changes, or things you had once thought to be true being revealed as a lie.”

She placed her hand onto my shoulder. “Belladonna Smith, I wish for you the greatest luck.”

She kissed my forehead and placed something in my hand. It was a necklace with a clear vial charm. Inside was a strange brown liquid with sparkling golden flecks mixed in. I put it on and hugged her, thanking her for the gift.

I looked at my watch. 7:03. The bus would be at the stop in less than a minute!

“Gotta go love you g’bye!” I shouted, standing up with a loud screech of the chair on imitation tile flooring. I shoved two waffles into my mouth and dumped some chocolate syrup on top, dashing to the door with the syrup bottle in hand.

I grabbed my backpack and bolted down the street where the bus was already driving past my house. I waved my arms wildly and the bus screeched to a halt as it was about to turn a corner, opening its door inches from my face. I felt the rain hitting my backpack which I quickly pulled over my head, but mostly I felt panic and lack of oxygen constrict my lungs to the point where I saw spots and had to grip at my stomach not to start crying.

I plopped into the nearest seat, desperate to catch my breath. The world was spinning around me and I couldn’t think straight. The bus pulled forward, suddenly draping inky darkness over everything as the lights flicked off.

I think that’s why I didn’t notice the rather frazzled new girl sitting next to me.

Once the bus pulled into its next stop, I had caught my breath enough to feel remotely stable. That’s when I noticed her first.

She had a halo of curly hair with a flower crown on it. The flowers were fake plastic sunflowers, but they seemed real among the warm browns of her hair. If you looked close enough you could see that amidst her dark skin she had freckles. Her eyes were almost black along the edges, but a fiery, volcanic gold in the middle. She was even wearing metallic gold lipstick and eyeshadow with perfect black wings of eyeliner.

I felt stunned to say the very least. She was like an angel, and I was wearing an old pajama shirt. It took me a moment to realize I was just staring at her, and she was starting to get creeped out.

“Hi!” I choked out. “I’m Bella. You new here?”

She nodded warily. “Lani. Yeah, I just moved here.”

Her voice was like a golden bell, warm and sparkly. “Where are you from?”

“I’ve lived in Florida most of my life, but my mom had a midlife crisis and dragged us out here.”

“Us?” I asked, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. She was impossibly pretty.

“I’ve got four older sisters,” she said, starting to smile.

“Oh. I’m an only child, so it’s just me, my mom, and my aunt.”

“Must be nice to have all that room to yourself, I’ve gotta share a room with two other people. And a bathroom with five.” She smiled, laughing a little.

I noticed she was wearing an incredibly cute outfit; a white collared blouse and a black vest with high-waisted jeans. She had a yellow backpack on her lap, and it looked expensive. Her mom must have a high paying job.

“It gets kind of lonely at times. Maybe you could come over sometime if you wanted?”

She smiled and nodded. “You sound like my kind of person, sure.”

Her kind of person! That’s the kind of person I want to be.

“Alright! Here’s my address,” I said, writing it out on a piece of paper from my sketchbook. She stopped me, staring at a simple sketch I had done of one of the people from my dreams. That’s almost all I draw; things I see in dreams. It helps me keep the memories alive. The drawing she was looking at was of a bird with its wings outstretched, shadowing over a featureless human. By size comparison, the bird was massive, beak stretched to the sky, head turned so that its eye stared into that of the onlooker.

“Did you draw that? It looks awesome.”

“Oh, that one isn’t as good as some others I’ve done. Here, check this out!”

I flipped to one of the earlier pages and traced my hand over a ‘self-portrait’ of sorts. The girl in the drawing looked like me, but with short hair and skinny jeans, a pair of huge boots with spikes on the heel tied around her ankles. She also wore a denim jacket that went up just to her ribs and a t-shirt with a diagram of a human heart on it. She held her head up high and puffed her chest out with pride, a stoic expression across her face. A sword was clutched in her fists, aimed at the ground with blood dripping off of it.

“Who’s that?” Lani asked, raking a hand through her mass of curly hair.

“That’s a design for something I’d like to be able to pull off in the future. Figuratively speaking.” I said, laughing awkwardly.

I looked out of the window and noticed that school property was coming towards us rather quickly. “We’re almost there. Do you know where your classes are?”

She made a thoughtful face and then shook her head. “First day, no clue where I’m going.”

“I’ll walk you to the counsellor’s office once we get in! I don’t want you to get lost on your first day. ”

She seemed a bit surprised. “Alright, sounds good to me.” She smiled, taking a drink from her yellow water bottle.

The bus pulled to a stop and the doors swung open. Since we were in the first seats, she let us out first. I grabbed my backpack by the top handle and walked into the building with the prettiest girl I had ever seen at my side.

****

**_What could go wrong, right?_ **


End file.
